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The storm of loud repining hush,

I would in humble silence mourn ; Why should the unburnt though burning bush,

Be angry as the crackling thorn? Man should not faint at thy rebuke,

Like Joshua falling on his face, * When the curst thing that Achan took

Brought Israel into just disgrace. Perhaps some golden wedge suppress'd, Some secret sin offends

my Perhaps that Babylonish vest,

Self-righteousness, provokes the rod. Ah! were I buffeted all day,

Mock’d, crown'd with thorns, and spit upon ; I yet

should have no right to say, My great distress is mine alone. Let me not angrily declare

No pain was ever sharp like mine; Nor murmur at the cross I bear,

But rather weep, remembering thine.

O LORD, my best desire fulfil,

And help me to resign
Life, health, and comfort to thy will,

And make thy pleasure mine.

* Joshua vii. 10, 11.

Why should I shrink at thy command,

Whose love forbids my fears ? Or tremble at the gracious hand

That wipes away my tears ? No, let me rather freely yield

What most I prize to thee; Who never hast a good withheld,

Or wilt withhold, from me.

Thy favour, all my journey through,

Thou art engaged to grant ; What else I want, or think I do,

'Tis better still to want.

Wisdom and mercy guide my way,

Shall I resist them both ?
A poor blind creature of a day,

And crush'd before the moth!

But ah! my inward spirit cries,

Still bind me to thy sway; Else the next cloud that veils the skies,

Drives all these thoughts away.


How blest thy creature is, O God,

When, with a single eye,
He views the lustre of thy word,

The dayspring from on high !

Through all the storms that veil the skies,

And frown on earthly things,
The Sun of Righteousness he eyes,

With healing on his wings.
Struck by that light, the human heart,

A barren soil no more,
Sends the sweet smell of grace abroad,

Where serpents lurk'd before.*
The soul a dreary province once

Of Satan's dark domain,
Feels a new empire form’d within,

And owns a heavenly reign.
The glorious orb, whose golden beams

The fruitful year control,
Since first, obedient to thy word,

He started from the goal;
Has cheer'd the nations with the joys

His orient rays impart;
But, Jesus, 'tis thy light alone

Can shine upon the heart.


Far from the world, O Lord, I flee,

From strife and tumult far;
From scenes where Satan wages still

His most successful war.

* Isaiah xxxv. 7.

The calm retreat, the silent shade,

With prayer and praise agree; And seem by thy sweet bounty made

For those who follow thee.

There, if thy Spirit touch the soul,

grace her mean abode, Oh, with what peace, and joy, and love,

She communes with her God !

There like the nightingale she pours

Her solitary lays;
Nor asks a witness of her song,

Nor thirsts for human praise.

Author and Guardian of my life,

Sweet source of light divine, And (all harmonious names in one)

My Saviour, thou art mine !

What thanks I owe thee, and what love,

A boundless, endless store,
Shall echo through the realms above

When time shall be no more.


To tell the Saviour all my wants,

How pleasing is the task !
Nor less to praise him when he grants

Beyond what I can ask.

My labouring spirit vainly seeks

To tell but half the joy;
With how much tenderness he speaks,

And helps me to reply.

Nor were it wise, nor should I choose,

Such secrets to declare;
Like precious wines their tastes they lose,

Exposed to open air.

But this with boldness I proclaim,

Nor care if thousands hear, Sweet is the ointment of his name,

Not life is half so dear.

And can you frown, my former friends,

Who knew what once I was ;
And blame the song that thus commends

The man who bore the cross ?

Trust me, I draw the likeness true,

And not as fancy paints ; Such honour


he give to you, For such have all his saints.


SOMETIMES a light surprises

The Christian while he sings ; It is the Lord who rises

With healing in his wings:

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